The Element of Change
by theonewhoburnedthesun
Summary: AU; 10 years after LOK setting; younger!Tarrlok; After suffering a neck injury, Councilman Tarrlok's squeaky assistant sets him up with a young, vivacious, and wise-for-her-years masseuse named Korra. Their relationship becomes less-than-professional, and suddenly complicated when both of their pasts are illuminated by circumstance. Rated M for later chapter sexiness.
1. Part I

_**A/N:** _These 'parts' will vary in size because I feel as though 'chapter' sets an expectation for length. So the length will vary, based on the happenings in the plot, dialogue, etc. This is more like a prologue, so it's inherently , this is my first attempt at capturing Tarrlok's character, and he might be horribly OOC so bear with me :)

A wonderful thanks to my friend alchemistextraordinaire for beta'ing this for me. Lord knows I need it.

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**The Element of Change / Part I_  
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"Ling, fetch me some sort of alcoholic drink. Anything but vodka."

Tarrlok's elbows were propped diligently on his desk, but his face slumped into his palms as he worked his fingers against his temples. What a headache being a politican was! His head swam with curses as he glowered down at the frustratingly complicated papers that lay before him.

"Right away, Councilman Tarrlok," his squeaky assistant replied with a bob, scurrying away like a mouse. Tarrlok's lip curled - the sound of Ling's voice only made his head throb harder, the pain pulsating down the nerves in his neck.

A few minutes passed and Ling returned with a bottle of whiskey; Tarrlok couldn't help but smile as he screwed off the top and pulled a glass from his drawer.

Noticing his assistant still stood there before him, Tarrlok narrowed his eyes.

"You may leave," he murmured dismissively as he threw back the shot glass, the sting of the liquid making his brain feel a little more numb by the second.

Ling didn't move; he shifted uncomfortably as he tucked his hands behind his back. "If you don't mind me saying, Councilman Tarrlok —"

"I actually do mind," Tarrlok snapped, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his ankles.

Swallowing, Ling went on. "You seem very stressed. Stress doesn't look very well on a man such as yourself."

"I am not stressed," Tarrlok insisted as he poured more whiskey. "I am merely exhausted from these long hours. I am sure all the other members of the council are as well." He raised an eyebrow.

"The other members aren't working on your project," Ling pointed out. "They aren't working as long of hours as you are."

Tarrlok grimaced as he stared back down at his desk. Sprawled across them was a plan to build a city-sponsored school system. He had been pulling all-nighters for the past four weeks, cascading across the city to meet with investors and landowners. There were only so many sources of income for the city; he had been keeping his plans low-key, anyhow. The other council members were quite peculiar when it came to socialistic programs. Tarrlok knew, however, that once his plans were solidified and fortified - no detail left unillustrated - that the council would have no choice but to embrace his plan for the school system.

Especially since he was planning to announce it to the media before the council.

Meeting with private investors was crucial to his operation. It took suave and a great sales pitch to convince multimillionaires to invest in a school.

Tarrlok's primary target, so to say, was Hiroshi Sato - he was by far the wealthiest man in the city with a few attributes which would make him a good candidate as an investor. One being that he had a child himself - a daughter, who was quite grown, but his child nonetheless- and two being that he started from humble beginnings. Much like Tarrlok.

Tarrlok suppressed a smug smile, looking up at Ling. "I am handling my stress just fine." He shifted in his seat, feeling a crack in his neck and an immediate pain swelling in his spine as he whelped. He brought a hand to the area, trying to rub out the pain but it only increased, causing him to whelp.

"Councilman!" Ling exclaimed, squeaking like a child as he hurried to the desk. "What might I do for you?"

Tarrlok grit his teeth. "Find me someone to take care of my neck."

**.**

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After his Monday morning meeting with the council, Tarrlok decided to take the rest of the day off. The past few days had been wretchedly painful; the soreness in his neck never faded. If anything, it got worse - especially when he tried to waterbend. Apparently his assistant scheduled an appointment with some sort of healer - he was too agitated to ask for details - who would be coming by his house within the hour.

His driver whisked him away from City Hall, so that he might be present for this appointment. He cleared his books, even rescheduled the high-profile appointment he managed to snatch with Hiroshi Sato. Tarrlok provided an eloquent excuse: he was experiencing severe spinal pain and had an appointment with a healer. He surprised himself by telling the truth; often he forgot that he was in the business of spinning lies into half-truths. He didn't necessarily enjoy deceiving people. Tarrlok rationalized it was for a higher purpose.

Tarrlok glanced out the passenger window, eyebrows furrowing as he saw a girl standing on the sidewalk leading up to his house. Her head was tipped in the air, as if she were examining his elaborate house; many called it ostentatious but Tarrlok called it art. He designed it himself - architecture had been a hobby of his, next to political science - paying close attention to each and every detail.

Tarrlok pushed open his door as soon as the car came to a stop in the half-circle driveway. He shuffled towards the woman; why hadn't she noticed his fast approach behind her?

"Who are you and what are you doing on my property?"

The girl - no, she was definitely a young woman - turned around with a pleasant smile. She completely ignored his antagonism, holding out her hand in a very business-like manner.

"I'm Korra, and I'm your masseuse."

**.**

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	2. Part II

_**A/N:** _This part is about the same length as the last. Still not entirely sure where I'm going with this yet, but I just can't NOT write i

A wonderful thanks to my friend alchemistextraordinaire for beta'ing this for me. Lord knows I need it.

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**The Element of Change / Part II_  
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Tarrlok stared at her hand for a moment, unsure how to react. He was definitely not expecting such a pretty girl on his lawn - especially not one who was clearly of Water Tribe decent - let alone a massage therapist.

"You _are_ Councilman Tarrlok, right?" she laughed sheepishly, as if it were obvious. _Of course_ his identity was obvious. His face had showered the papers for years as he made his climb up the political ladder.

Her words prodded him from his paralysis, and he held out his hand to shake hers. She shook it firmly, offering him a more playful smile.

"I know I'm quite early; my apologies for that. I just assumed you might already be home. I was told over the phone that your ailment was inhibiting you physically."

Tarrlok's lip curled, internally cursing his assistant. "You must have spoken to Ling, my assistant who enjoys exaggeration and embellishment." He forces a smile, though it is easy to fake. "I didn't know I was seeing a _masseuse_." He was sure that Ling would schedule him an appointment with some old healer who'd wave some water over him and make the pain go away. What had possessed his idiot of an assistant to think that a little lotion and rubbing would make his neck better?

She frowned at the way he enunciated her title. "It seems your assistant also enjoys keeping you ignorant. A dangerous quality in an assistant, if you ask me." She shrugged her shoulders.

"He's the only assistant I've ever had that can remember how I like my coffee," he chuckled.

Looking down at their hands at the same moment, they realized their fingers were still connected. She released Tarrlok's hand as if it had burned her.

"Where would you like your massage?" the woman - Korra, Tarrlok's mind amended - asked delicately, bending down to the ground to pick up what looked like a large metal briefcase. She noticed his inquiring expression and chuckled. "This is my table."

Tarrlok suppressed the need to inquire further, gesturing a hand toward his front door. "Follow me."

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Tarrlok wanted his house to say something about him. He desired that it conveyed elegance, class, and confidence. Image was, after all, an important part of his job. He had to have a certain edge to attract enough attention to be noticed, and then maintain that attention enough to have influence.

As soon as he had the funds, this home became his dream. His solace. His image.

Korra was utterly blown away by the interior. The lobby area, with marble floors and a spiral staircase weaving up the center, was intended to make the greatest first impression on anyone who entered. The whole first floor, where he would entertain guests and such, was designed for a similar purpose.

Emerging from her trance, Korra turned to Tarrlok. "Which room is most relaxing?"

Tarrlok gave her an easy smile, waving a hand toward the staircase. "Upstairs"

Tarrlok offered to carry her table up the stairs, but she declined as she playfully flexed her exposed tanned bicep. She was quite a young, frisky thing - as if someone poured some sort of stimulant in her morning tea. Then again, she seemed far too vivacious to indulge in things as sophisticated as tea. For some reason, Tarrlok found this quality oddly intriguing. Odd, because it was usually women of the sophisticated-sort that piqued his interest.

As she trudged her table up the stairs, Tarrlok innocently noted that Korra had a very athletic body underneath her smooth black uniform. Then, his mind ventured into not so innocent territory as his eyes locked on her backside.

Tarrlok nipped those thoughts in the bud. How young was the girl? Early twenties? She seemed quite mature, but her youthful spirit was clear from the bounce in her step... and the bouncing of other things...

They reached the top of the staircase and Korra suddenly turned to face him. "Lead the way, Mr. Councilman." Tarrlok quirked an eyebrow as he paced down the darkened hall of the second level, finding the door at the end of the hall and turning the knob.

He flicked on the switch next to the door, illuminating the room. Tarrlok stole a glance at the young lady as she followed behind him, her eyes widening as she absorbed her surroundings.

"Whoa," she breathed. "Is your interior designer bipolar or something?" she sputtered, the professional facade dissolving under her bemusement.

Tarrlok couldn't tell if that was supposed to be a compliment or not, but couldn't help but smirk as he watched her expressions change. He held his hands behind his back as he paced into the center of the room. Beneath his bare feet, he felt the tendrils of fur flowering between his toes. A Tiger-leopard rug sprawled beneath him, just in front of the stone fireplace that flickered with embers left over from the night before. On the other side of the room, was his large canopy bed with animal skins hanging down its sides.

This room was for him: Tarrlok of the Water Tribe.

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	3. Part III

_**A/N: **_Yay! Longer chapter! Things get a little sexy so enjoy :3 Please excuse any grammar mistakes... I'll fix them later.

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**The Element of Change / Part III_  
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"I designed this room myself," Tarrlok said, smugness outweighing the sharp tone he intended for her taking a jab at his decorating skills.

"Oh," Korra stammered, backtracking. "You have _very _good taste." Tarrlok quirked an eyebrow as she strode across the room and began to set up her table methodically, realizing that she was actually being honest. He didn't realize before, but her skin was luscious and dark much like his own. She must be Water Tribe; Tarrlok stole a glance at her face again. It was rounded, youthful, but her lips were full and pink which gave her a mature edge that made Tarrlok's throat swell. She even a fashioned a traditional ponytail.

Korra glanced up at him, and he immediately looked away. But not before catching a glimpse of her bright blue eyes.

Tarrlok's eyes widened once Korra finished unfolding the table – the thing was quite rickety-looking. And old, judging on the browning (not quite rust, but _rustic)_ of the base of the legs. He stood off to the side, a questionable expression on his face, as she centered the table in front of the fireplace. In a bag that was slung over her shoulder, emerged a thin folded cushion and some sheets. She draped them diligently over the massage table before stepping back.

"I am going to step out for a minute; you can strip and lay face-down on the bed, and cover your back with the sheet." Korra's demeanor was once again very professional; she bowed and exited the room.

Tarrlok stripped down bare, complying with her requested, and climbed under the sheet. He was actually surprised with how comfortable the table was with the cushion separating him from the metal. Still, he was skeptical about its ability to hold his weight and braced himself as his naked body adjusted on it. At the end there was a circular cushion, where he pressed the outline of his face and he could stare down at the black fur covering the floor.

Korra knocked lightly on the door, opening a crack to make sure he was under the sheet.

Tarrlok lifted himself on the underside of his forearms as she walked toward the fireplace, unaware of him watching. She leaned into the pit and began to rekindle the flames. Immediately he inhaled the scent of crisp, burning wood; Tarrlok shifted to get a better look and abruptly regretted it. He tried to suppress a groan as a spark of pain went up his neck, but Korra didn't miss a thing.

He flopped back down on the table, and his heart stuttered when he heart it groan beneath him. Face down in the open-pillow, he could see her bare feet padding towards him and she peeled back the sheet to expose his upper back. The air was warm – Tarrlok always kept his house toasty and the fire only heightened the temperature- but still made goosebumps crawl up his back as she exposed him. Korra rested a hand at the top of his spine. "Tell me more about your pain."

He went into the excruciating details of what he could only describe as someone implanting a coat hanger at the top of his spine, uncoiling down his back. As he spoke, her hands would follow the areas he mentioned. She rubbed her fingers along the disks of his spine. Clinically, Tarrlok assured himself but couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as his primal-self reminded him that these clinical hands were _woman's _hands.

How long had it been since a female touched him so delicately?

"Have you been working long, stressful hours?" she inquired, pausing her hand on the small of his back. Tarrlok grumbled an affirmation, wondering how she could tell. "From my examination, I think both your physical and mental state are contributing to your ailment."

"What do you mean?"

As if illustrating her words, she wrapped her other hand around the back of his neck. Her fingers were warm – oddly warm, he noted – and soothing, but his neck still throbbed from the pressure. "Being hunched over in an office chair has unbelievably negative affects on spinal health," she said thoughtfully. "But overworking the mind can lead to problems as well. You would be surprised how much power the mind has over the body…"

Her voice trailed off and she began to knead his neck.

"Ow, ow, ow," he whimpered, his face flushing red with anger; he was more angry at the fact she had coaxed such a pathetic sound from him, rather than the fact she induced the pain.

"Just relax," Korra cooed, her voice dropping into its lower registers. She continued to massage the area just bellow his skull, and a surprised gasp passed his lips when she hit a strangely pleasuring point that made his whole body limp on the table. "I am temporarily numbing your chi; loosening the muscles is the first step in relaxation.

"Now, you must cleanse your mind of any troubling thoughts. Feel the heat of the flame – its energy surging through the air and into my body." Korra added another and to his shoulder, slowly palming the area bellow the blade. "The chi flowing through me, and into you." Tarrlok felt a surge of heat pulse through her fingers, and he knew what she said was true. He could feel the faint heat of the flame brushing his face. Then, the pulsing heat seemed to infect his muscles tranquility.

Both of Korra's hands worked on Tarrlok's shoulders; the councilman felt as if he were being wisped away from reality. Her fingers repeatedly caressed small numbs of nerves – knots that slowly came untied under her touch – and caused his whole body to shiver. Increasingly, the sensations were making it difficult for Tarrlok to quiet himself.

Massaging the area just above his tailbone, Korra leaned down to him and said with a low voice, "how's the pressure?"

"_Good,_" he gritted, trying to hush the noises that were building up in his abdomen. But as she repeated the motion, Tarrlok flushed and let them fly past his lips and into the air. Embarrassed, he took the edge of the sheet and gnawed until he could trust himself not to betray his body.

_Magic hands, _something deep within him whispered, the thought dug into his mind until he felt the evidence of his enjoyment pressing through the padding of the bed and into the hard metal table.

Just as he was about to demand she stop, Korra's hands disappeared.

"We have reached the end of our allotted time," she said, voice still deep and smooth. "I will step out for a moment while you get dressed." Tarrlok lifted his head from the bed, only catching a glimpse of her in the dim lighting of the fire before the door closed behind her.

He quickly clothed himself and rushed to the bathroom. His forehead beaded with sweat, and the evidence of his shameful arousal was barely visible. He turned the sink onto the coldest setting and bended the water to his face and coated his neck.

Aside from his _problem_, Tarrlok was more relaxed than he'd been in his entire life. The pain in his upper spine seemed to have subsided, to his relief, and his muscles felt loose.

"Councilman Tarrlok?" Tarrlok stepped out of the bathroom, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief as he rubbed his neck.

"I feel… amazing," he admitted, eying the young masseuse as she disassembled her massage table.

She chuckled slightly. "Well, unfortunately that won't last long unless you make regular appointments with a therapist," she said. _A therapist, _Tarrlok scrutinized, wondering why she chose those words.

Tarrlok didn't hesitate. "My assistant will be in contact with _you_."

Korra tilted her head, a genuinely surprised expression crossing her face. "Oh, Councilman Tarrlok, I am _so _happy you said that." Her shoulders slumped and she bit her lip. "I was afraid I screwed this up."

Tarrlok shook his head incredulously. "Spirits, I haven't felt this relaxed in years." Exasperation tinted his tone, as _relaxation _wasn't the only dormant state she had awakened. "You are _very _good at what you do."

Korra wordlessly crossed the room, extending her free hand towards him. Tarrlok took it, eyes locking with hers. "Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked; he was surprised he said those words. He hadn't planned to, the just slipped out. It was uncharacteristic of him: unprofessional, thoughtless, and _desperate_.

Korra was visibly perplexed, yet flattered, by his question "I – I can't. I have another client," she stammered, releasing his hand and stepping back. Tarrlok nodded, escorting her with a quietly wounded ego to the front door. Just as he opened it for her, her face lit up.

"Can I have a rain check?" she asked quickly, blood flushing her cheeks.

Tarrlok, despite himself, genuinely smiled something less political and more grateful. "Why, of course Miss Korra."


	4. Part IV

_**A/N: **_No Korra in this one. Just Tarrlok *poor baby*

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**The Element of Change / Part IV_  
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It was a rare ting when Councilman Tarrlok smiled at his assistant.

Ling scampered into the councilman's office, cradling a mug of coffee against his chest while he wrangled a thick folder of papers in the pit of his left arm. Just as he reached the large desk that sat before Tarrlok's water mural, Ling's food caught on nothing. Balance lost, the coffee mug flew through the air and the files showered and scattered.

Expecting to hear Tarrlok's resonating yell, Ling curled up into a cowardly ball, wincing as he heard footsteps.

Opening one eye, he looked up to se a dark hand reaching for him.

"It's okay, Ling," Tarrlok sigh, irritation clear in his voice. Ling's heart bounded with relief; at least hie wasn't yelling.

"I am so very sorry Councilman; I will clean it up right away."

That was when Tarrlok smiled ever-so-slightly, amusement creeping on his lips. "No need. I am not to proud to clean up a mess."

With a graceful swipe of his arm, Tarrlok bent his knees and summoned the coffee - which was essentially flavored water - from between the floorboards and from Ling's partially soaked clothes. Feeling a breath of life, as if each water particle had a pulse, Tarrlok scooped the brown liquid in his hand - cradling it - until he bent it into the mug which Ling idly held between his hands as he watched.

The sudden burst of chi made Tarrlok feel alive - until a spasm of pain shot up his side, leaving his body feeling worn and torn all over again. The smile faded from his face as he gripped the side of his abdomen.

He looked to Ling, and then waved a hand over the manila folder and its scattered contents.

"Pick those up," he ordered, collapsing into his chair with an exasperated breath.

Ling complied; he would have to make another appointment with that massage therapist soon.

.

.

Tarrlok was pleasantly surprised when he received a telephone call from Hiroshi Sato himself, about the rescheduling of their appointment. As he listened to the billionaire, Tarrlok nervously twirled the cord of the mouthpiece around is index finger.

"It was a shame our previous appointment was canceled; a disappointment indeed," Sato said over the line.

"My most humble apologies, Hiroshi, I was looking forward to discussing my business venture. I fell quite ill and I had to go home. Something I rarely do," Tarrlok gave lighthearted chuckle in trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes, I am most curious about your proposal. shouldn't a political be making laws, not business?"

Tarrlok laughed. "I sure you will understand my intentions in time, Hiroshi. Is there a time we may meet?"

"Come to my private estate in one hour, and we may discuss your...venture."

Tarrlok's brows raised, but he shielded the surprise in his voice. "Oh - yes, of course. I can arrange that -" He frantically thumbed through his datebook, dragging a finger down the page as he speed-read his appointments. Damn it, that masseuse. Tarrlok was immediately reminded of he pain that had returned only a few days ago, running up his side, and he grit his teeth. He couldn't cancel with Hiroshi again. "I will see you in an hour, Mr. Sato."

"I can hardly wait, Councilman Tarrlok."

The line went dead and Tarrlok hung up the phone. An exasperated sigh escaped him and he cradled his face in his hands. He needed something to temporarily dull the pain so he could concentrate during his meeting.

He pressed a button on the side of his desk, which made a shrill ringing noise in the small office that was connected to his. A few seconds later, Ling came rushing in. Tarrlok cringed at the sound of his assistant's heavy, obnoxious feet. Didn't he know how to be quiet?

"Call for my driver and arrange for him to pick me up in about twenty minutes. Oh, and you need to reschedule my massage session for tomorrow..." Tarrlok said, crossing his legs as leaned back.

"Councilman...your pain?" Ling murmured with concern, striding forward and pulled something from behind his back. Tarrlok's eyebrows raised; it was a bottle of scotch. "To take the edge off?"

His antagonism melted as he remembered _this _is why he kept his mousey little assistant arround.

The councilman tore the bottle from Ling's shaky hands and screwed of the top, breaking the plastic seal. Not even bothering to find a glass, he pressed the bottle to his lips and poured the sticky, warm liquid down his throat. Immediately his body and brain felt numbed perhaps it would suffice for the duration of his appointment.

Ling offered a hand to take the bottle, but Tarrlok tucked int inside his jacket instead. "No, I might keep this." He waved a hand dismissively and Ling scurried away.

A hint of satisfaction hung on his lips, and he couldn't resist taking just another swig.

.

.

Tarrlok would have been lying if he said he wasn't buzzed. However, years of social drinking and learning to feign sobriety made sure his meeting with Hiroshi Sato didn't end in disaster.

It did, however, end with a deal. It was a deal in every sense of the word: an exchange of influence for money. Sato agreed to fund the school project, and Tarrlok would agree to endorse any law Hiroshi specified (as well as oppose any law wish he opposed). It was dirty politics - lobbying - Tarrlok wouldn't kid himself. The bureaucracy of Republic City was corrupt anyhow, but at least his agenda would better the city in the long run by providing more education to the average citizen.

To make the donation from Future Industries more obscure, Tarrlok arranged to throw a fundraising gala for his cause... where an anonymous donation could be made. Tarrlok loathed going to parties, where he wore his most sickening mask and spent his time pouring out praise like a fountain. It was the downfall of his job: he was always crawling up people's asses.

By the time his car pulled up in the half-circle of his drive, he was stumbling to the door. The car ride from the Sato mansion was filled with him sipping the bottle of scotch he'd brought with him. He was past the point of drinking to ease his physical pain; he engulfed the hot liquid because it made him forget who he was. Sometimes he had bouts of depression, especially after long days at work, where memories of his childhood would flood his mind and tear at him. Consumed by self-loathing he finished the bottle and tossed it to the floor of the car. It wasn't enough.

Tarrlok fumbled with his keys, but eventually the door flew open and Tarrlok shrugged off his jacket and hung it over the railing of the stairs. The next thing he knew, he was in his room and going toward the minibar concealed in a closet just off his sleeping quarters. It wasn't hard to choose his poison: the drink that would numb his mind into oblivion so that he could forget he existed.

Vodka.


	5. Part V

_**A/N: **_Sorry this took forever. My feels hurt from my Amorra story and I couldn't bring myself to write something lighthearted. SO. Here goes something.

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**The Element of Change / Part IV_  
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The next morning was nearly as unpleasant as the night before. Given that the numbing and drunken stupor had worn off, Tarrlok was left with a throbbing headache that was only eased in the deep sleep that consumed him. That is, until he was rudely awaken by the blaring sound of his phone ringing. His eardrums exploded at the sound, and he groped his hand across the nightstand as he blindly went to pick up the ear and mouthpiece. Tarrlok grasped the chords roughly, the phone stand falling to the floor, but he managed to wrangle the pieces to his ear and mouth.

"Councilman Tarrlok," he grumbled groggily, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Not only did it hurt his ears, but he sounded like a drunk. He quickly attempted to gather himself, sitting up in bed despite the movement being quite labored.

"Yes, Councilman Tarrlok, the rest of the council is concerned as to why you haven't arrived at the regular Monday morning meeting." It was one of the other councilperson's assistants on the other line, though he couldn't pinpoint which one.

"Inform the other councilpersons that I am quite ill," he said carefully.

"Councilman Tenzin informed me that your presence is of the utmost importance, as your vote is needed on the matter regarding the Avatar - "

"Can they please move the voting to next Monday?" Tarrlok interjected impatiently. "I am not in the physical nor mental state to make a decision on that matter."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. "I will inform the council."

Tarrlok didn't bother with any more forced pleasantries and just dropped the ear and mouth pieces to the floor, the clattering of them on the hardwood making his eardrums throb even more.

He rolled over in bed as he pulled the fur coverings up to the base of his throat, slipping easily into a groggy state where sleep barely touched him.

**.**

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It only seemed like seconds later when he was, yet again, stirred into consciousness. However it was not his phone that woke Tarrlok this time, but the chiming of the doorbells echoing through the manor. Slightly startled by the sound, he rolled out of bed on to the floor. He grunted, clawing at his bed and wrapping his bare torso with the fur comforter. Tarrlok steadied himself on the wall, thankful that (even though his equilibrium still suffered) his head still didn't feel like it was going to implode at any moment.

He glided out of his room, down the stairs, wincing in the sunlight which poured in through the large windows above the front door. Tarrlok cracked open the door, squinting to see who was there. He blinked a few times. "Miss Korra?" he murmured incredulously, opening it wider. Her dark skin shimmered under the blinding sun, chocolate hair pulled into her traditional yet timeless ponytail, but her bright smile faltered when she surveyed Tarrlok's appearance. He was far too hungover to feel embarrassed about his condition, but instinctively smoothed his disheveled hair as he took a couple steps back. "Come in."

"Thank you," she said politely, a forced and professional smile returning to her lips. Korra emerged through the door, and Tarrlok leaned against the wall as she waltzed into the foyer. He subtly observed her young athletic body move beneath her thick black… uniform. It suddenly occurred to Tarrlok that she was her for business purposes. Hadn't he assumed this in the first place? He rubbed a hand across his forehead and coughed. Of course, no, she wouldn't come to him for any other reason. "What are you doing here?" he grumbled in a suddenly sharp voice.

Korra gazed at him blankly for a moment, before breaking into a worried laugh. "I - we have an appointment," she trailed off, gently reminding him despite his sharp demeanor. Tarrlok twisted his lips.

"Oh, right," he mumbled, shrugging. "I forgot. As you can tell, I am out of sorts. My apologies." The apology even sounded disingenuous.

Korra snorted, suppressing a fit of laughter. "Out of sorts? You're hungover!" she exclaimed, setting down her metal table and satchel. She crossed her arms across her chest. "Take me to the kitchen."

**.**

**.**

"You see, when I was younger, drinking was one of the only things that kept me sane," Korra admitted with amusement as she shuffled through the kitchen. She gathered a few eggs, some fruit, and a cutting knife. As she diligently sliced the fruit she glanced up at Tarrlok who sat at a bar stool across the counter. "So, I know at thing or two about hangovers."

"You do not seem the type to get drunk enough to drink such a putrid remedy," Tarrlok said with a twisted expression as he examined the supposed ingredients for her hangover cure with scrutiny.

"Neither do you," she countered with a smirk.

Cracking a smile, Tarrlok watched her mix the thinly diced fruit with thick yellow egg yolks. She emptied the ingredients into the blending contraption, peering around the device as she tried to find a switch. Noticing her troubles, Tarrlok leaned over the counter and flipped it on for her, the roaring of the little motor stabbing at his ears, but he played it cool.

Korra rolled her eyes. "I don't need you to turn on a blender for me."

"It just seemed like you were struggling," he teased. "I'm sure you would have found the switch." Tarrlok was smug, and he leaned back in the bar stool with a smile that proved to erase any semblance of modesty he had gained in her eyes. "You are very competent; however, blenders aren't quite common yet."

"I would have," she murmured with a slight frown. "Besides, I've used blenders plenty. When I bar-tended."

Tarrlok arched a brow. "You were a bartender?" he inquired. "Where in spirits' name at?"

Korra flipped off the blender and giving a nervous chuckle. "You don't want to know," she assured him as she poured the green-and-white contents into a tall, opaque glass. She slid it across the counter top, gesturing slightly. "Drink."

Tarrlok reluctantly took a sip, cringing at the taste. "Revolting," he muttered, smirking through his wince as he looked up at Korra. His interest was piqued, and a distracting from the taste wouldn't hurt. "Tell me of your little escapade."

Korra's lips twisted thoughtfully, then curving into a mischievous smile. "How about this," she started, leaning across the counter. "You take a sip, I tell you a detail."

"A drinking game?" he said with surprise.

"Except you're being rewarded with juicy secrets about your mysterious masseuse," she chuckled. "And not getting drunk."

Feigning deliberation, Tarrlok arched a brow. "Deal." He threw down a mouthful of the mixture eagerly, provoking a coughing fit. Korra found this entertaining and laughed bellishly.

"Well, I worked at Shuishan's," she admitted with a hint of shame in her voice. Tarrlok's eyes widened. Shuishan's was a hole-in-the-wall dive on the lower end of Republic CIty - not even the gangs graced that bar with their presence. It was filled with ex-cons and was often confused with a brothel.

Though, he removed the disbelief from his voice. "Oh really?"

"It was an honest paycheck - well, an honest night's work at least," she explained hurriedly. "It's not like I worked the corner. I poured drinks and flirted with the not-so-scary customers."

"I never said it wasn't honest work," Tarrlok replied. "It merely surprises me that a young lady such as nice as yourself associated herself in that part of town, with those types of people."

Korra propped her elbows up, cradling her chin. "Who said I was a nice young lady?"

Tarrlok resisted the urge to swallow, as he sensed the subliminal flirtation in her voice. "If you aren't nice, then I am a poor judge of character," he said, nearly stammering despite himself. "In which case, I am in dire need of a career change."

"I stayed out of trouble," she continued with a smile. "For the most part, trouble seems to find me." Her face fell, and she stood erect. Tarrlok watched her, and she arched an eyebrow. "How do you feel?"

Tarrlok thought for a second, sensing the change in his condition. His brows raised in surprise. "I feel much better," he said, glancing up at her. "You seem to have this effect on me."

To Tarrlok's pleasure, a bit of blush rose on her cheeks. She cleared her throat and looked over her shoulder. "Well, I should be going. I have another client." Korra walked around the counter, standing next to Tarrlok. "But… I can give you a quick session," she murmured.

Tarrlok's eyebrows knitted together as he tried to survey what Korra was doing. She held both sides of his head, steadying him. Korra's fingers dragged down his neck, brushing his hair in an oddly intimate manner, until they pressed into the side of his neck. He flinched, the pressure making his body spasm.

"That hurt?" she asked softly; Korra's voice had slipped into that familiar and soothing lower register. He nodded slightly. She hummed thoughtfully. "Just relax."

Tarrlok should have been relaxed, but he was rigid under her hands; he was locked in a state of anticipation and fascination. Korra sensed his tensing muscles, and pressed into his neck harder. Like a balloon being popped, the air left him and his body numbed. With the arm that worked, he grabbed the side of the bar stool to keep himself from falling out of it. The fur wrapping fell off his body and his bare back was now exposed, which made him oddly uncomfortable, but for the wrong reasons.

Then her hands were around his neck again. Except, he felt cool liquid around it, collaring him. Then strange sensation overtook Tarrlok, glowing and pleasurable, as the dampness crept down his back.

"Are you… healing me?"

"Yes," she replied. "Are you surprised?"

"No," he mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as the glowing spread into his face. "I made an assumption. Massage therapy is usually… a nonbender's job. "Those with healing abilities usually become City Healers."

"A license is required to use bending for medicinal purposes. And that particular license requires schooling, which I could never afford." She removed her hands, bending the water into the sink.

"I see," Tarrlok murmured. "Nevertheless, you are excellent at what you do. I will have my assistant call you to schedule a more thorough appointment."

Korra shifted uncomfortably. "That sounds great. I guess I will… show myself out."

"No," Tarrlok said quickly, perhaps too quickly. He rose from the bar stool, standing before her. She stared at him with wide eyes; Tarrlok ignored the fact that her eyes wandered down his bare chest and looked towards the kitchen door. "I will walk you."

He showed Korra to the door, opening it for her to leave. "Have a good day Korra," he told her.

"You as well, Councilman." She looked over her shoulder as she left, flashing him a smile."

She was midway down the sidewalk when Tarrlok leaned into the door frame, murmuring too quiet for her to hear, "You may call me Tarrlok."


	6. Part VI

_**A/N: IMPORTANT AND DESPERATE APOLOGY FROM THE AUTHOR:**_

I am so sorry this update has taken... so long. I'm really upset with myself because my muse left me as it usually does. It's just a shame that the loss came in the middle of a fanfiction that I planned to be several chapters. I know I have... a reputation for not finishing what I start and it really hurts me to know that people actually refuse to read my other works because of this. I am a student and I work part-time every day. I usually don't have access to a computer for 13-14 hours at a time.

Things have been busy, and they're not going to calm down, but I want to keep writing this story so bad! The plot which, for the most part, I have planned out is amazing actually. This chapter is VERY important when it comes to weaving this alternate universe into one of coherency. The thing is, when will I find the time?

Some questions that need to be answered:

** How old is Tarrlok exactly?** In this story he is 38, which puts his age at the canon as 28. None of the other characters ages have been modified for this AU.

**Where is the smut?** As much as I really really want to, the smut will not come fast for these two. There are many implications that would prevent Korra from proceeding to have sex with her employer, even though the chemistry between them is obvious. I will cover this in later chapters. Needless to say, the built-up sexual desire will result in some awesome sex scenes later on so stay tuned.

Any other questions, leave me a review. But please don't hate on me for not updating because I'm already beating myself up.

So, here I present Part 6. It's short, but contains a lot of info that you need. Enjoy ~

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**The Element of Change / Part VI_  
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"Your handwriting is obnoxiously difficult to read," Tarrlok muttered flatly to Ling as his eyes skimmed the sloppy hand-written schedule for his day. He crossed his legs as he absentmindedly gripped the edge of his seat, the satomobile suddenly plowing across some sort of speed bump. Tarrlok hissed as his head smacked against the glass window. In a low and dangerous voice he murmured to Ling: "Fire this blasted driver; he has no concept of what a brake pedal is for."

"Noted, Councilman," Ling replied, studiously jotting down his employer's demands.

Tarrlok sneered internally and resumed reading over his adjdeda. First and foremost, in about twenty minutes (assuming he would make it there without becoming a statistic who dies in an satomobile accident), Tarrlok would have his routine Monday morning meeting with the Council. He was looking forward to it... and not. The first issue that they would address would be the one regarding the Avatar. Well, she had become known as the Lost Avatar, because she had been missing for nearly sixteen years. The Watertribe girl vanished when she was only eleven years old. Tarrlok was twenty-two at the time, still quite fresh, and an intern for the former Watertribe representative. Though, the scandal was still vivid in his mind. Some speculated that there was some kind of curse developing in the Avatar cycle.

Tarrlok wondered if the young Avatar, still quite a mystery since her identity was only to be revealed to the public on her sixteenth birthday, would ever return. Most were concerned about an 'imbalance' but in all honesty there were few inequalities to be seen in Republic City. Really the only unrest in the city was created by some obscure extremist group that called themselves 'Equalists'. Tarrlok found equality as a ridiculous notion; equal distribution of wealth was impossible and so he found the Equalist party equally ridiculous. It wasn't as if they'd caused much trouble as of late anyways. A few rallies gone awry, demand for representation - nothing that surged them to the top of his list of problems-that-need-to-be-taken-care-of.

Tarrlok shuffled his papers as the car rolled to a stop in front of City Hall. Ling hurriedly opened the car door for Tarrlok, proceeding to follow the councilman as he made his way toward the assembly hall.

Ling departed toward his office while Tarrlok headed into the meeting, for which it seemed he was right on time for. Tenzin shot a look at him, obviously one asking, "Where have you been all week?"

Admittedly, Tarrlok did use his hangover as an excuse to take the remainder of the week off, but in all honesty he needed a break from his ambitious approach on life. He was beginning to have odd feelings regarding his manipulative behavior. Guilt - an emotion that seldom grazed his mind.

"Good morning, Tenzin," he announced politely as he strode down the aisle of the assembly hall, the crescent-shaped panel of fellow councilmembers filled by all but him. He prefered to greet Tenzin first, because he liked to remind the pacifistic, weak-minded, son-of-the-old-Avatar that Tarrlok was indeed his competitor and superior. Where Tenzin leaned left, Tarrlok pulled the reins of the government to the right. This perpetual battle between them would only escalate today.

He wiped his slight sneer away quickly before addressing the other councilmembers. "I assume all of you are doing wonderfully?" he greeted with a smile as he settled himself at the end of the table. He undid the first button of his white shirt and loosened his embroidered jacket. He rolled his eyes at no one. "The summer is growing hot, yes?"

"Beautiful day," the Fire Nation councilwoman agreed blandly. "Humid though."

Tarrlok chuckled. "Indeed."

"Let's leave the pleasantries for later, Tarrlok," Tenzin sighed with exasperation as his head tilted downward. Sadness, Tarrlok interpreted. "Since you were absent last Monday, the matter regarding the Avatar has become one of urgency." He sympathetically mirrored Tenzin, lips curling downward and a line forming between his eyebrows..

"Oh yes," he sighed weakly. "I have not forgotten about the Lost Avatar, but it did slip my mind how personal this matter is for you." Even with sadness in his voice, authority tinged his tone.

Tenzin ignored the latter end of his statement. "Since you have not forgotten, then there shall be no further delay." He lifted his hands and knitted his fingers together above the table. "You all recall how the world ceased to move, for a moment, sixteen years ago. When K- the Avatar - disappeared from the South Pole.

"Preceding this meeting, we have discussed in length the implications of her being missing for so long," Tenzin went on, his scowl deepening. "Because, if she died sixteen years ago, then the next Avatar in the cycle needs to be found."

"Yes," Tarrlok agreed, propping his elbow on the arm of his chair. "That would make the new Avatar at least sixteen today, correct?"

"It has been sixteen years, one month, and three days." Tarrlok's chest panged oddly at the specificity of Tenzin's words - he hadn't quite realized Tenzin's attachment to the little girl until now. He nearly pulled back the reigns, but immediately saw almost-gesture as weakness. Instead, he overcompensated by letting cruelty drip into his demeanor.

"Pity, pity," Tarrlok murmured, not despondent but seemingly patronizing. "The general consensus is that the Avatar is indeed still an intricate part of maintaining balance. Therefore, we must invest our resources into finding the new Avatar - in cooperation with the Earth Kingdom, of course - before he or she can be corrupted. I wouldn't be surprised if the new Avatar has already discovered his or her's ability to bend something besides Earth - "

"Tarrlok, please, this meeting isn't address - well - the new Avatar," Tenzin interjected hurriedly, annoyed. "That is an insult to her memory, even now, when she is believed to be alive."

"But is she?" Tarrlok inquired curtly, glancing down at the stack of papers before him. The were details regarding the unnamed Watertribe girl, eleven years old, and the night of her disappearance. "The young Avatar escaped the confines of the White Lotus compound, heading due north for Southern Watertribe harbor, yes?"

Tenzin responded quickly and sharply. "Yes, she escaped on her polarbear dog."

"Which was later found dead, buried beneath tons of snow?"

"There was a blizzard that night," Tenzin replied.

Tarrlok clicked his tongue. "Foolish little girl," he said grievously, looking up from his documents. He'd memorized it anyways. "The odds of her being alive are slim to none. And if she were alive, she's had sixteen years to step forward."

The hollowness in Tenzin's eyes deepened. "Her parents have conveyed the same assumptions."

"Assumptions?" Tarrlok replied, brows rising curiously. "You know, Tenzin, just because your father was missing for one hundred years and presumed dead just as long, doesn't mean his heir carries the same fate."

"Others would argue differently." Tenzin lifted his chin. "Some say that the Avatar spirit has been cursed with misfortune. That the Avatar will return only when the world needs him or her."

With a roll of his eyes, Tarrlok laughed. "A man as bright as yourself believes that load of platypus-bear carcass? I think you are blinded by an odd attachment to the girl, because you are drawing many similarities to your father." Tarrlok leaned across the table, still several meters from Tenzin but their eyes locked. Tarrlok pulsed with persuasion, with patrony. "This Avatar is dead."

Tenzin's nostrils flared as he swallowed his anger, barely able to keep the most vulgar of phrases from spewing out of his lips. "Then we have established the purpose of this hearing?"

"I think so," Tarrlok replied with pleasure in his voice. He gazed to the other councilmembers with expectancy and compulsion. "I believe we might have reached a verdict."

Tenzin shuddered a breath, eyes flashing to the other solemn councilmembers. They gazed at Tarrlok like weak animals begging for treats, as if his satisfaction alone fulfilled them. It sickened Tenzin to his core, that one man could have so much power.

No consensus was made that morning, but the verdict still fell in Tarrlok's favor as per usual. None of them comprehended the magnitude of which this decision would alter the city, and the world.

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**Your reviews mean a lot - they are a ton of motivation. What do you think's going to happen? What do you think of the Korrlok dynamic thus far?**


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